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makismei · 2 months ago

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in the same universe as this :,) cw: toy usage, hint of brat taming, hints of sadism & machoism, 18+ content, overstim, dubious consent, soft :(

“you’re doing it again,” he deadpans, knocking your thighs open, “keep. them. open.”

pearly slick oozes from your cunt, soiling the newly washed sheets and sticking to your inner thighs. toji sits in front of you, a blank look on his face but you know how he’s truly feeling from his eyes.

lidded and intently focused on your poor, leaky cunt, he mindlessly goes through a small box on the bed, feeling around for what feels interesting.

it’s your box of sex toys. the ones you used before you started dating the man in front of you. it’s been a while since you’ve reached for them, since it feels like toji knows your body wayyy more than you do, and also because he gets you there, he doesn’t let you escape until you’ve gone brainless from all the orgasms he’s blessed you with. why would you ever need to do the work again?

but toji isn’t all too familiar with adult toys. of course, he knows about the basics—dildos and vibrators, but when he accidentally stumbled upon this little treasure box of yours (his own words), curiosity took over him. he’s never seen pieces of silicone and plastic look so lewd, and the look on your face was so precious, he just had to try them.

“hmm,” lowly, he calls your name, “what’s this?”

heavy eyelids blink open, registering what’s in his hand before you shoot up, attempting to scurry away but your bed isn’t that big and his reflexes are out of this world—

“that’s a reaction,” he grins, eyeing the small red toy, shaped like a flower. “you used this one a lot?”

you shake your head, cheeks burning and eyes welling up with tears. crocodile tears, toji raises a brow, beckoning you to continue.

“‘s too much, it..” you trail off, breaking your gaze, but his hand guides you back, gently thumbing your cheek.

“you’re in control baby,” he whispers, “i won’t do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

of course you know, that’s why you let him do whatever the hell he wants with you. and frankly, him using that cursed little rose toy is making you more excited than you thought.

“it… made me squirt for the first time…” you squeak, speeding up with each word spoken, “i only used it a few times because the first setting was already too m—hold on, waitwaitwait—”

“this?” he drags you back, spreading your legs to make room for himself, “m’ gonna have fun with this.”

“toji,” you weep, anticipating, and he knows, a soothing hand caressing your thighs and waist, “m’ nervous.”

and toji knows he’s sick and utterly deplorable, because your reaction is turning him on. he’s excited, out of the few he’s tested already and the others yet to come, he has an inkling of a feeling that this one will be his favourite.

“s’ okay,” he coos, “what’s your word, gorgeous?”

“ginza…” the city you met him in. a little corny, but it works.

he hums, smiling. “you ready?”

you nod, shyly looking up before correcting yourself, “yes.. m’ ready.”

it doesn’t take him long at all to figure out the buttons. there’s only two after all, the power button and the other one that controls the settings.

the buzz makes you tense up, but you relax slightly under your boyfriend’s loving touch.

he spreads your lower lips with a thumb and pointer finger, whistling lowly. he lazily collects your juices, smearing it over your clit.

with bated breaths, you let out a quiet cry when the suction latches onto your swollen clit. back arching almost immediately, toji’s shocked by your reaction. he grins, amused. cute, he thinks, watching you drool and squeal.

you’re surprisingly still, muscles tense and lost hands trying to find purpose.

would it be too much if he started fingering you?

you let out a long wail, head jolting to look down at him. he’s smirking, pleased with your shocked expression.

but he’ll be nice, for now, only sliding in one finger as he eyes your reaction.

it hasn’t even been long, maybe just over two minutes, but by the telltale squeeze of your cunt on his finger he knows you’re cumming.

“already?” he laughs, crooking his finger just right, “no way.”

“i—i told yooouuuu!” you’re absolutely gone when he presses against that little spot inside of you, screeching as your body locks up. toji feels his finger being pushed out, a stream of liquid following, splashing lewdly from your cunt.

and god, just at the sight of you, the sounds you’re making—he’s about to lose it. but he grits his teeth, using a free hand to quickly hold himself off.

he takes the toy away, turning it off, but still stimulating you with his thumb. your body starts quivering from all the pleasure and it’s been a while since he’s seen you cum like that; he worries for a moment that he pushed you too hard.

but he lets you ride it out, quiet sobs of pleasure filling the room. your head is turned to the side, shaking hands covering your face. he praises you softly, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to the inner side of your knee.

when he sees you’ve calmed down, he gently moves your hands away, pressing a kiss to your tear soaked cheeks, both sides, before kissing you deeply. you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

when he pulls away, he cradles your face in his hands. “how was that?”

it feels like a fire ignites beneath your skin, his stare rapt and focused only on you.

your eyes shift away, meek and ashamed, “i liked it…”

“don’t get all shy with me doll,” he grouses, “i gotta know how you feel.”

your hips are still twitchy, eyes glazed over. “toji,” you whine softly, tears pooling in your eyes yet again and this time he’s actually worried. “m’ not lying… it felt so good, but i’m really embarrassed.”

“baby,” he coos, chastely kissing your lips, “s’ okay, s’ nothing you need to be embarrassed about.”

he turns you both over, so you’re laying on his chest. you listen to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and true. the warmth of his body is soothing, his fingers tapping up and down your spine.

“toji,” you call, meek and unsure. he hums.

“i love you,” you mutter, raising your head, “i know we don’t say it a lot, b-but—”

he smiles, all the way from his lips to his eyes. his entire face lights up, “if i knew making you cum real hard makes you a softy—ow! okay! don’t bite me!”

he’s laughing, hand brushing the hair from your face. “i love you. more than you’ll never know, doll.”

it’s resolute, he’s so unashamed that it’s annoying.

you grumble, hiding your face in his chest. your breath stutters when you feel his cock poke your leg.

“sorry,” he chuckles, “he likes you.”

“shut up,” you mumble, hand reaching back. it’s searingly hot and heavy in your hand. you can feel one of his veins pulsing under your touch.

“sweets,” he panics, “s’ okay, jus’ leave it… holy shiitttt..”

you whine, thighs quivering at the feeling of his leaky tip pressing against your slit.

“tojiii,” you drool, looking up at him, “i want it.”

he rubs a hand over his reddening face, unsure. need is taking over him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold back. “baby, can you handle it?”

you nod, “yes, yes please,” you call his name, drawn out and needy and fuck, he’d be a shit boyfriend if he doesn’t give his lady what she wants right?

#i need him BAD #this is my dream… a little deranged but still my dream nonetheless ….#jujutsu kaisen smut #pleasure dom! toji #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader

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dearieshima · 3 months ago

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NEED

✦ SUMMARY

╰┈➤ choso, your big-dick, virgin boyfriend, has finally had a taste of a orgasm by his real human girlfriend. Now, he needs more.

He grunted, his head lowered. "Yeah, yeah, I'm better than them. I'm better than all of them. I-"

✦ C.W

╰┈➤part 2 of WANT but you don't really need it to read this, switch!choso that becomes dom!choso, unprotected sex, loss of virginity (choso), nipping, jealousy, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, overstimulation, 3k+ words, missionary, riding

Choso's tongue delved between your folds, lapping hungrily at your dripping essence. He groaned against your heated flesh, the vibrations sending electric jolts through your core. His mouth sealed over your aching sex as he sucked and licked with wild abandon.

His fingers dug into the supple skin of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart to grant him deeper access. He plunged his tongue inside your tight channel, fucking you with the slick muscle as he savored every drop of your nectar. The obscene sounds of his feasting filled the room, stoking the flames of your lust ever higher.

Choso was drunk on your pussy, addicted to the taste and scent of your arousal. He needed more, craved to feel you come undone beneath his skilled ministrations once again. Sealing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked hard on the sensitive nub, flicking the tip of his tongue over it rapidly.

"Cho!" You gasped, your body tensing as the waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you once again. You clutched at Choso's hair, your fingers trembling with the effort to lift his head away from your sensitive flesh.

Choso's pupils were wide and glazed over with lust as he stared at it, his breathing heavy and labored. He whimpered needily when you pulled him away, not understanding why you were stopping him.

"Cho..."

"Yes?" Choso replied. His tongue came back, licking at the wetness on his lips before he swallowed. Choso's hands rubbed up and down your thighs, waiting for a verdict.

"I can... Go longer." He promised, his tongue licking at his lips again. He sounded winded, which he was. "You didn't get to cum..."

Your thighs quivered as you gazed down at Choso through half-lidded eyes. "No... It's okay," you breathed. "I think I'm ready."

Choso blinked.

"Are you sure? I could..."

He looked at your slick folds, then back up at you. But you interrupted him with a sharp look.

Choso swallowed. "Right."

You let go of his hair as he shuffled forward on the couch until he was positioned between your parted thighs, his rigid cock nestling against your entrance. The head, already weeping beads of pre-cum, mingled with your slick. Choso's large hands settled on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you steady.

"Do you need help?"

"I-"

Choso's voice died for a second. He cleared his mouth and tried again.

"I've got this."

Choso's gaze flickered between your face and the glistening prize nestled between your thighs. A faint blush colored his cheeks as he drank in the sight.

"This... Will hurt, right? For you?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Only for a second... I came so many times on your tongue already, so it'll slide right in."

Choso nodded and swallowed hard. He looked back down again, almost like he was making sure it was still there. His eyes lingered on the slick folds of your sex, reaching out with a trembling hand for his thumb to pull apart your lips.

"Okay. Okay." He said, more to himself than you.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer to him. He was on his knees, with your back and head on the couch. Your legs were on his shoulders.

He nodded, swallowing again. "So... Right now?"

"At your pace."

Choso's face held some sort of determination and nervousness. He nodded again, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Now. Now's good," he said, almost in a whisper.

Choso's hands trembled slightly as he gripped your hips, his eyes wide and uncertain. He positioned himself at your entrance, the heat and slickness foreign to his touch.

"Here I go..."

With a deep breath, he began to push forward slowly, carefully, but his movements were too tentative and he slipped out, unable to breach you.

"Cho, you need to be a bit more assertive," you coached breathlessly. "Otherwise, it won't-" your words caught in your throat as Choso, spurred by your encouragement, thrust forward, eager to listen. His length slid into your depths in one smooth motion, stretching your walls around his girth.

Immediately, Choso froze. His eyes widen in panic as he registered your sharp intake, his mind starting to scream at him for messing up.

"Wh-... Oh. You... You're ok?" He asked, his hands shaking on your waist.

"M-mm," you whimpered, feeling Choso's impressive size stretching you open. "You're really big, Cho."

He could feel his pride swell a bit. It probably wasn't news to him, but hearing it from you made his chest rumble. He wanted to move, but he was fighting himself on waiting.

"Uh- Thanks," he breathed. "You're... Uh, hot. And really tight..."

He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes before he opened them again and looked down at you, his eyes holding a mixture of caution and hunger.

"Can I move?"

You nodded eagerly, your slick walls clenching around his thick shaft in anticipation.

Choso's eyes widened as he felt your walls clench around him. He had no idea the female body was capable of such things.

A strangled groan escaped his lips and his head dropped between his shoulders. The grip on your hips tightened as he held you in place, a way to keep himself grounded.

"Ah! Stop, stop, stop...! Don't do that," he whined. "Fuck, I-Im gonna..."

You pouted up at him, a coy glint in your eye. "It's kind of involuntary, Cho. It just happens when you make me feel really good."

"I know, I know, but-" Choso tried to reply, struggling. He took a moment to collect himself and with a deep breath, he looked up at you. "Just give me...-- give me a second," he panted.

Closing his eyes, Choso tried to calm his racing heart. But all he could think about was how you looked splayed out beneath him, your body glistening with sweat. He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing inside your tight heat.

You clenched again around his throbbing length, relishing the way he fought to maintain control.

He let out a strangled gasp, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "No... Fuck!" The stimulation was too much for his body to handle. With a desperate whine, he pulled his cock out of you just in time, ropes of hot cum spurting from his twitching cock, splattering across your ass and dripping down to your quivering asshole. His grip on your hips trembled and his knees weakened. He slumped a little, his head dropping back down between his shoulders.

It took him a second to get his bearings, his breathing ragged. "I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice rough. His forehead fell onto your thigh, hiding his red face. "I just- you were... I-"

He took a deep breath and mumbled, "I got nervous."

You caressed his cheek with your thumb. "It's okay, Cho. A lot of guys, especially virgins, cums quickly the first few times. It's totally normal and nothing to be embarrassed about."

His eyes closed at the contact, his breathing coming out shaky. "How many... How many have you had?" He asked suddenly.

"Of what?"

Choso looked slightly embarrassed as he fumbled for the words. "Virgins," he breathed. "How many... Virgin guys?"

You tried to find the right words. "Well, um, most of the guys I was with before... they were more, uh, experienced. You’re actually my first."

Choso stilled at the words.

"Oh," he said simply, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. For some reason, he felt guilty that he couldn't give you an nice experience.

You pulled Choso close, pressing your lips to his forehead in a tender kiss. "It's alright, Cho," you murmured. "I enjoyed myself. You made me cum on your tongue almost three times, after all."

Choso grumbled, not wanting to leave off like this. He knew the others didn't matter. He knew your attention was on him, not them. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy when it came to pleasing you.

He gripped your thighs again. "It's not okay," he mumbled.

Choso leaned into your touch, his nose nuzzling at your skin. His shoulders were tense, his grip on your thighs firm. He was trying to keep it together, but the bitter feeling was still there. He didn't even notice his grip getting tighter.

Choso wouldn't be satisfied until he was the best experience yet.

"Cho?" you asked, though he didn’t seem to hear as he repositioned himself, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

"I want to show you I'm the best," he muttered, more to himself.

Choso's shoulders trembled as he grabbed your thighs again, his grip on them bruising. He looked down, his tongue running over his top lip. He wanted to show you he could be better.

He was better.

Choso's face was flushed, his breathing ragged as he positioned himself at your entrance once more. With a shaky hand, he guided himself inside your slick heat, both of you letting out a soft groan at the sensation. Slowly, he began to move, setting a tentative rhythm. His movements were unpracticed but earnest, driven by instinct and desire. Each thrust brought a gasp or whimper from his lips as the pleasure built within him.

"I'll show you..." Choso breathed, his words coming out as puffs of air. "I'll show you..."

The words were more of a promise for himself. He increased the pace, the slap of skin against skin filled the room as he lost himself in the act of loving you. Sweat beaded on his brow from the exertion and intensity of the experience.

"Cho!"

"Mhm, keep saying my name," he panted, his eyes squeezing shut. A shiver ran down Choso's spine at the sound of his name. It was like the confirmation he needed, the sign that he was doing something right.

Choso's hands shook on your thighs. His words were slightly strained, as if it was taking every ounce of energy to focus. His pace increased, his breathing picking up along with it. "Say I'm better."

Your nails raked down Choso's back, leaving red trails in their wake. "You're, you're b-better!"

Choso groaned, arching into your touch. The feeling of your nails against his back sent pleasure cascading through his spine, his mind feeling hazy. Choso liked the burn of them, it was like a brand to him.

He panted, his pace getting more frantic. "Yeah..." he breathed. "You're mine. Say it again..."

"B-Better! Cho!"

Choso's arms trembled against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut as he relished in the sound of his name on your lips.

He grunted, his head lowered. "Yeah, yeah, I'm better than them. I'm better than all of them. I-"

Choso's hands slid clumsily to your hips, gripping tightly as he tried to maneuver your body. He lifted you slightly, angling you in a new position that felt foreign to you both. You ended up on your side, top leg bent and resting on Choso's shoulder as he knelt between your thighs, straddling your lower leg.

"Ah! C-Cho, wait..." You gasped as he pushed forward, his hard length spearing into your slick heat from this new angle. Your toes curled at the intense sensation of him hitting deep inside.

"S-Sorry... I just want to make you feel so good," Choso panted, his face flushed. He thrusted into you with clumsy but eager strokes, hips slapping against your thigh as he picked up the pace, grunting with effort.

You cried out, fisting the couch cushions. "Yes, Cho! just like that! Don't stop!" Choso's cock abused that spongy spot within you with each pump of his hips.

Choso's breath hitched, your scream going straight to his core. He grunted, picking up his pace. Choso suddenly felt the need to make you scream more. "Mmhm, like that," he panted. "Like that. Say my name. Say I'm winning."

"You're winni-ngggh... You're winning!"

Choso's body trembled when he heard the words, a guttural moan leaving his lips. He was going to win. He was.

He just needed to keep going-- keep you moaning for him, keep your voice cracking as you said his name.

Choso's hands gripped your thighs tightly as he shifted positions again, pulling you onto his lap. He bounced you up and down on his throbbing cock, grunting with each movement. "Ah! Ah!" He cried out, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Cho-- ngh!"

Choso leaned over your trembling body, his feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. He needed to hear more of those sweet, desperate sounds spilling from your lips. Panting heavily, he captured one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just enough to make you gasp then soothing the sting with a run of his tongue.

"Louder," he growled against your shoulder. "Louder, I want the whole block to hear you." His hips thrusted upwards to meet your bounces. The wet slap of flesh against flesh filled the air as he pounded into you relentlessly, chasing his own pleasure. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, leaving red marks in their wake.

"C-Cho, Cho-zo, Cho..." you croaked. "Please... I need you, I need youuu.."

Choso felt his chest rumble at your voice. Everything about your voice set his body on fire. Every moan, every plea...

"Beg," he suddenly said, his lips ghosting against your ear. "Beg for it."

"Please..." You cried, arching your back. "Fuck, pleassseee...."

Choso groaned against your neck, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He could feel the effect your voice already had over him. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Choso awkwardly shifted into his last position on his back, his feet planted on the couch cushions. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing but tried to mimic what he had seen in videos online. You straddled his waist, your weight making him sink slightly into the cushions.

He tentatively put his hands on your hips, unsure if that was the right place. Then he began to move, thrusting upwards clumsily, his pace uneven. He couldn't believe this was really happening. You felt so warm and soft above him.

This had to be his favorite position. He fumbled to find a rhythm, his inexperienced thrusts chopped and uncoordinated. But with each one, your soft curves jiggled in the most tantalizing way, your love handles peeking out as you leaned to the side. He marveled at the way your full breasts bounced, the peaks hard and begging for him to suck them.

His gaze traced the long line of your neck as your head tipped back in pleasure. He wanted to lean in and press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your throat, to taste the salt of your sweat-slicked skin. His gaze dropped lower to where you both connected, your greedy cunt swallowing all his girth, your ass slamming down on the sticky mess that rested on his abdomen.

"Please, what? Tell me what you need," he panted against your skin.

"--In me... In me!"

Choso stilled for a moment, his brain short circulating at the words. In. In me. The words repeated like a mantra in his head. In me. In. Me...

He lifted his head, biting the edge of his lip. "You--... You want what?" He breathed, his own voice slightly raspy.

"Cum in me," you pleaded. "Please, Cho..."

Choso's breathing hitched. His brain felt fuzzy as he shifted, positioning you and himself properly. "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes dark.

Your head nodded enthusiastically, like a bobbing head on a rocky road.

Choso grunted at the sight. He had the overwhelming urge to give you everything. Show you exactly what you needed.

He took a deep breath. "You gonna say my name when it happens?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please."

Choso let out a strained grunt and clung to your hips, fingers digging in almost painfully as he tried to ground himself.

"Okay. Okay-- yeah. Yeah, anything you want, just say it." His head dropped, looking up at you. His eyes were blown out, his head felt fuzzy. "Anything you want. You're mine."

His hips jerked and spasmed erratically as he reached his peak, "I'm gonna--... I'm gonna--!"

"Cho--!"

"Nnngh! Oh f-fuck!" he gasped, his voice pitching. His whole body shook with the force of his climax. Hot spurts of his seed pulsed deep inside you as he clung to you desperately. "Oh God! Y/N! I'm cumming!"

Choso's entire body shuddered as waves of intense pleasure crashed over him. His face contorted in ecstasy as he rode out the overwhelming sensations. "Ahhh! Y/N!" he cried out, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

Pearly ropes of cum began leaking out around his pulsing shaft, making a sticky mess of your joined sexes.

"Oh god, oh fuck, holy shit..." Choso panted harshly, voice shaky and strained. His cock had managed to accidentally slip out of you but he continued to thrust up weakly like he didn't notice. More jizz spurted out to coat your ass. It felt like he was cumming forever, his balls emptying completely.

Thick globs connected you obscenely before breaking and splattering onto his abdomen below. Choso collapsed on the couch, chest heaving as he came down.

You slumped against his chest, your breaths taking in the smell of his sweat.

Choso's body shook against you, his breathing still ragged. He couldn't get any words to form properly, it was like he was trying to think through a thick fog. But that fog had his mind clouded with only one image.

You. The way you looked beneath him. The way you said his name. The way you took everything he gave.

He slumped against the couch, his head falling backwards on the hand rest. He felt himself tremble faintly against you.

He grunted, his hands tracing the skin of your damp thighs. He could feel the evidence of your activities on them, and the sight went straight to his head and straight back down to his cock.

He whimpered, focusing on not getting worked up again. You wouldn't survive if he did.

He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. He closed his eyes, feeling himself getting more and more tired by the second.

"Cho..." You sighed, still living in the aftershocks.

"Yeah," he breathed against your scalp, his hold on your thighs still firm. "I'm here. I'm here... Are you alright?"

You hummed, your thighs still twitching. Choso's breath hitched as he felt your thighs quiver against his hips. His own legs trembled, muscles tensing and relaxing in a futile attempt to find purchase.

His hand continued to slide up your thigh, lightly tracing patterns on the skin. "Yeah, I-..."

He suddenly let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. "I can't move."

"Hm?"

Choso buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the skin as he let out a quiet whine. "I-... I don't think I can move," he mumbled. "Everything-... everything feels like jelly right now."

You attempted to move before realizing you couldn't too. "I can't either."

Choso's heart raced as he gazed at your flushed, satisfied face. The lingering scent of your lovemaking hung heavy in the air. He swallowed hard, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

"I...I think I should clean you up," he said hesitantly. "Isn't that what comes next? After..." He trailed off, unsure how to articulate the intimacy you had just shared.

You smiled softly, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Normally, yes. But we can wait a bit."

Choso hummed against your skin, his head nodding before resting on your shoulder. He felt too tired and boneless to get up and clean anything.

He suddenly shifted, pulling you closer against his chest. Choso gently wrapped his arm around you, his hand rubbed soothing circles over your side.

"Love you, Cho." You said, pausing a moment before abruptly asking, "and what was up with 'that' before?"

Choso hummed, his eyes opening a fraction to glance at you. He knew what you were talking about, he just didn't really want to admit it.

"What do you mean, 'that'?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

"'Tell me I'm winning,'" you mocked him, repeating what he'd groaned earlier.

Choso's cheeks flared. Hearing you repeat his words made him all too aware of how it sounded.

He didn't say anything for a moment. "... It-... It just slipped out," he mumbled, his voice slightly pouty. He felt your eyebrow raise as you gave you a confused look. He suddenly became more aware of the sound of his own breathing in the quiet room.

"You can't-... don't look at me like that," he muttered, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"Were you jealous?"

Choso paused, his hands suddenly stilling. Were he jealous? He... He had been jealous. Of all the men who'd seen you before, touched you before, heard you moan their names before-

"Yes," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

You giggled breathly, "why?"

"What do you mean why?" He mumbled against your skin. "I'm-... You're mine. I don't like the thought of other guys having seen you like that."

Your chin propped between his large pecs, rubbing his neck, "they didn't make me feel half as good as you made me feel tonight, though."

Choso felt his chest rumble, tilting his head back as a sigh left his lips from your touch. He closed his eyes, enjoying the way your thumb felt against his skin.

Then your words suddenly registered in his brain, a wave of satisfaction and ego suddenly rushing through him.

Choso opened his eyes and suddenly found himself taking in your appearance. He drank in the disheveled hair, the flushed skin, the slight sheen of sweat.

Choso's breath hitched as he felt himself start to stiffen again, his body responding eagerly despite his mind's uncertainty. He had never been this intimate with someone before, let alone three times in one night. Part of him wanted to hide his renewed arousal, embarrassed by his lack of control. But another part, emboldened by your earlier encouragement, dared to hope you might want him again.

You gasped softly as you felt Choso's hardness press against your backside. Your eyes went wide, pulse quickening. "Choso, you can't be..."

He followed your gaze to where he was poking you and suddenly found himself turning red.

"I-..I can't help it," he mumbled, his voice raspy. "You just look-... you-" he groaned suddenly, burying his head in the crook of your neck again.

You groaned. "I built a monster."

Choso suddenly let out a huff against your skin, his hands suddenly grabbing your waist.

His tone suddenly turned needy, almost whiny. "You did," he mumbled. "You turned me into this. And now you have to take responsibility."

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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago

Note

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied.

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details.

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name.

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror.

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause.

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it.

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort.

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is.

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably.

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—”

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face.

Oh. He was fucking with you.

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer.

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you.

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies.

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly.

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic.

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you.

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room.

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder.

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back.

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately.

“Oh my god!��Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin.

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are.

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer.

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach.

Something resembling jealousy.

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid.

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you.

You swallow and try to act like yourself.

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see.

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in.

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively.

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place.

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable.

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job.

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it.

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown.

She makes a good point.

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail.

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut.

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer.

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl.

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen.

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny.

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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4unnyr0se · 7 months ago

Note

Haikyuu characters catching you masterbating ?

❥ caught ya! | haikyuu guys catching you pleasuring yourself

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader mentions of masturbation (duh), jealously, fingering, teasing, voyeurism, toy usage, lewd language

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 650

a/n: hopefully i assigned the characters correctly

got a request? my asks are open!

❥ They think it's cute

He walks in on you, knuckle-deep in your soaked pussy, panties hastily pushed aside as you plunge your fingers into your dripping heat over and over again. You were too preoccupied with fucking yourself on your fingers that you didn’t even notice how the door to your bedroom closed, your boyfriend crossing his arms in amusement as he leaned against your dresser. He observes how his name falls from your lips like a broken prayer, your nose sniffling pathetically as you try too hard to rip an orgasm out of you. But sadly, your fingers were no match for his own, and they never will be. You squealed in delight as you finally hit that sweet spot that you so craved, only to have your moment of bliss interrupted by your boyfriend's gentle cooing.

“Did my baby miss me while I was working, hm? Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll just stand here and watch. Go on, try to make yourself cum without my help. You’re so fucking adorable, my precious angel.”

SUGAWARA, kuroo, yaku, ennoshita, UKAI, semi, hanamaki, kenma, OSAMU, kita

❥ They think it's stupid

He hears your oh-so-familiar moans behind your shared bedroom and busts in without a second thought. Who the hell was ripping those perfect noises from your pretty lips without his permission? Why, was it you, of course! A bullet vibration practically danced on your throbbing clit while your legs were spread like a slut, your slit drenching the innermost part. Your perfectly manicured hand squeezed your breast, your thumb rolling over your nipple whilst your pearly whites bit down on your bottom lip, hips bucking into the air on occasion. His eyes filled with fury as he ripped the vibrator off your clit, earning an annoyed moan from your slutty mouth.

“What the fuck is this, hm? You seriously couldn’t wait for me to get back so I could fuck you? Who the hell needs this stupid toy when you have me? That’s it. Get on all fours. Right now, don’t fucking test me.”

kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, kyoutani, IWAIZUMI, atsumu, suna, sakusa, ushijima, daichi

❥ They're completely starstruck

Oh, fuck. They have absolutely no idea what to do. He’s fantasized about this so much, and it’s finally fucking happening. He caught you bouncing on a dildo you had bought yourself, whimpering as the silicone head hit every spot so perfectly deep inside your gummy walls. His eyes landed on your pretty fingers, desperately swirling your clit, beads of sweat flying off your forehead. You looked so fucking ethereal, he had to say something. He just had to let you know how fucking pretty you looked!

“Holy fuck, you look so fucking pretty. Can you keep going for me, please? I wanna see you cum over and over again, please, baby girl. I’ll fuck you as much as you want, just put on a good show for me. God, you’re perfect.”

HINATA, yamaguchi, asahi, GOSHIKI, oikawa, akaashi, takeda, TANAKA

❥ They join you

His ears perk up once he hears you mewling in pleasure from your bedroom, eagerly slamming the door open to reveal your hands fucking a vibrating bullet in and out of your weeping cunt, the sheets beneath you a filthy mess. He smirks and practically pounces on the bed, not even bothering to shut the door as he peppers your face in a million kisses. You always look so pretty when you wanna get yourself off. What if he fucked his fist in tandem with you? That's the best idea ever.

“Shit, don’t stop just for me, baby. Let’s cum at the same time, yeah? You wanna fuck yourself with that cute bullet I got you while I fuck my fist to the sight of your pretty tits? C’mon, don’t say no! It’ll be fun, I promise! Then I’ll fuck you nice and good afterward, okay? Thank you, pretty baby.”

nishinoya, BOKUTO, konoha, matsukawa, TENDOU, terushima, yamamoto, lev

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chuluoyi · 7 months ago

Text

✎ to my beloved

- gojo satoru x reader

bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, fluff, fluff—just gojo pampering you

note: my job has been so hard for me this week :') so yeah it's very self indulgent as i need a lil hurt/comfort and i think you should too~

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

This week... has been a total dumpster fire.

You were utterly exhausted, covered in grime and blood, a persisting headache made you almost black out, all while sitting in the hospital waiting room as survivor's guilt slowly consumed you.

Grueling paperwork, a new project, facing the higher-ups, being substituted to Kyoto for days, and then a sudden attack of a curse user on the loose.

In times of need, you were supposed to protect others— you are a jujutsu sorcerer.

And yet, what happened? Megumi suddenly bathed in his own blood. You barely managed to save him in time, and now you were waiting for the news that he would be okay.

Why couldn't it be you instead? You wanted to break down each time you replayed the scene that took Megumi out. It was so eerily similar to how Haibara was—

"Are you okay!?"

You whipped your head, surprised to find your husband pounding down the hall. Satoru looked unlike himself—he was disheveled, and when he saw you, he immediately dashed towards where you were.

"Satoru..." you voice came out in a croak, feeling the lump in your throat closing in. When he dropped to his knee, put both hands on the sides of your face, and then your body, feeling you over to check if you had any injuries—

You finally burst into tears.

"Sweets, hey..." Satoru immediately pulled you close, trying to soothe you. You were shaking in his arms and he tightened his arms around you. "What happened to you?"

"I-I was... w-with him..." you sobbed, burying your face in his shoulder. "S-Satoru... I-I'm sorry...! M-Megumi—"

Your husband immediately shushed you. "Shh... it's alright, yeah? He'll be okay—"

You were still inconsolable even as he held you in his embrace. He hadn't seen you like this... not ever since tragedies during your high school years ago. And he struggled to reconcile this sight of you with how you were back then.

"I-I s-should've stood in his way— t-that way, he won't be hit—" you hiccupped as you poured your heart out and clutched at his shirt. "I-It would be f-fine if it... was me—"

But all thoughts flew when he heard your words, and suddenly he felt so angry—

"What do you mean?" his voice was so low and sharp that it startled you. "How will it be fine if it was you?"

You stiffened, and Satoru gripped your shoulder, pulling away to look you right in the eyes.

"If something bad happened to you... how is it fine?" he emphasized with gritted teeth. "Where do you get that kind of bullshit from?"

Your lips were wobbling as you sniffled. "At least... i-it isn't him—"

"If you got hurt, how do you think it'll make me feel?" Satoru posed the burning question on you next, his cerulean eyes glinting with silent fury, and you almost recoiled.

"T-that's...!"

"I'll wreak havoc if anything ever happens to you." His tone was harsh and forceful. "So if you think you can just—"

"I'm tired!" you screamed then, and he was stunned, wide-eyed as he took in your outburst. "I-I'm just... I've had enough of this— this shit! I want to quit!"

You were openly weeping, and this time, Satoru felt his heart lurch. You looked so heartbroken and utterly inconsolable that his first instinct to protect you took over.

"Then quit." He rose and took a seat next to you, before cradling you closer and pressed your head against his chest. "Even if you quit, I'm still here. I can protect you well enough. I don't like you being a sorcerer anyway."

You were his beloved wife and he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be happy and smiling.

He let out a disgruntled grunt. "Did you know how I was when I heard from Ichiji that you were at the hospital? I thought I might go mad thinking something had happened to you."

You sobbed harder at his words.

"It's perfectly okay if you're tired," he affirmed, patting your back gently. "If you're fine with giving up everything, then I'm on board too. Whatever makes you happy, sweets. Just... don't think of anything that might hurt yourself. Don't think of anything that might make you leave me."

You didn't know you needed to hear it. Right at that moment, your heart swelled with warmth. All your feelings were validated, and even if you chose to let go of everything, Satoru would accept you as you are.

You felt safe, so incredibly and irrevocably secure.

"Whatever happened this time..." he breathed out, feeling the dampness in his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "It's not your fault. No one will blame you. I don't blame you, and Megumi won't too."

Your sniffles quieted down a bit at his words, and your throat still felt tight, clogged with tears.

"H-he... looked s-so much like Haibara... w-when—"

"Shush, he does not. Megumi will be okay. You will too, hmm?"

And just like that, you let go of everything and surrendered your entire being into his arms.

Clinging to him, you finally believed, in whatever shape or form it might take, you would be okay.

A week later, Megumi was discharged after being cleared by the hospital. His wounds were thankfully shallow, and you cried in relief when he woke up.

And after escorting him back, later that night, you laid on top your husband...

Your weight on him felt like a comforting reassurance as he gently patted your back. Satoru couldn't help but smile when he saw how peaceful you looked, like a baby about to fall asleep.

He couldn't resist and planted a firm kiss on the crown of your head.

"Mmm?" you looked up at him, eyes fluttering open, and he cracked a grin.

"What?"

"Can't I kiss my own wife? When she's adorable as heck too."

"You..." your lips curved into a bashful, yet exasperated smile, poking his chest in the process.

"Heh."

You drew circles on his broad and sturdy chest, noting how his arms extended and feeling how your toenails only reached a little past his knees. "Your arms and legs are ridiculously long. You are like an oversized plushie."

Satoru snickered. "Well, isn't that good? You don't have to buy them anymore. I can be your personal talking plushie."

"Ew." You hit his chest playfully, and he pushed your bum forward until you were face-to-face with him. He smooched you on the lips, and you giggled afterward.

His eyes shone as he stared at you, breaking to a smile himself. "Finally smiling. Pretty."

"Satoru..." your eyes found his, and you marveled at how sparkling they were. Seeing him so close, even after being married to him for more than a year, made your heart skip a beat. "I..."

"Hmm?"

"I want to keep being jujutsu sorcerer..." You had thought about it ever since, and you still arrived at the same conclusion. "It's true if I give up on it, you'll still keep me safe and all, but..."

Your husband waited for you to continue, still smiling, blinking expectantly.

"...this is something I have to do. I know there will be more hard days ahead, but believe it or not, I... found purpose in doing this," you said, shifting your gaze away from him. "It makes me feel... I can be useful. Even if I'm not special like you, I can still contribute in my own small way..."

How you pressed up against him, the way you looked hesitant and yet convinced at the same time... Satoru thought you were the most precious thing there was.

"Then keep going. I'll still be here too." He hugged you tight then, surprising you. "Just let me know when you feel like you need a long leave, and I'll definitely give you the solution."

"Eh? How?"

"Easy... I can just put a baby in you~ They won't deny you maternity leave or put you in missions~"

"...Satoru, you're—" You shot him a look so unamused, before resigning with a sigh. "Never mind... alright, sure, whatever you say."

"Ooh! So does this mean you want to try now?!"

"—? No, not now yet—!"

"When? We have to try one of these days before some meddlesome aunties ask us when we will have kids!"

Being sillies like this made you so glad that you had him in your life, and that you married him. And if he felt the same way as you... then you really thanked the stars for it.

You huffed, yet wrapping your arms around him in return. "Satoru, you're a clown."

"Your personal clown, you mean. Right~"

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mostly-imagines · 16 days ago

Text

You knew Damian would take his time adjusting to your presence. Of course he would. He’s even slower to warm up than Jason, you knew it before you’d even met him. So you’d had no idea you were even within a five year shot of him even liking you, let alone trusting you.

In spite of it nearing one in the morning, you laid atop your bed covers, watching your shows with passing interest. You’re waiting up for Jason like you usually do, you have a hard time sleeping not knowing if he’s okay or not. He hates it when you do, he says just because he has to be up all night doesn’t mean you do. Unfortunately for him, you’re nothing if not stubborn.

A clatter from the living room has you perking up—Jason’s back. It’s a little early for him to be home already though, and he’s not usually so loud upon re entry unless he’s hurt.

You stand quickly, tossing the book aside, and mentally prepare yourself to tend to injuries.

You open the door to the dark room, the only light available coming from the dim lamp in the kitchen and the moonlight through the open window.

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, scanning the room only to find a figure much, much smaller than expected.

“Damian?”

He looks at you through the darkness, silent. You approach him slowly.

“Hey. Are you hurt?” You ask, getting a bit concerned. Of all Jason’s brothers, Damian is the least likely to drop in, especially unharmed.

“No.” Damian’s always standoff-ish, but he’s exhibiting a particularly strange energy right now. You wonder if he needs something Jason could help with.

“Jason’s not here,” you tell him, watching him closely for any sign of what’s going on.

“I know.” His words are short, measured.

If he knows, that means he was with him tonight. Then why would he come here?

“Is everything okay?”

He says nothing. His gaze is lasered onto a panel of wood among the floorboards, jaw clenched.

You tilt your head. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

He hesitates to answer but it seems like he does want to stay. You don’t know Damian anywhere near as well as Jason does, but you can’t imagine he’s ever seen or shown much vulnerability before.

He seems to decide on biting the bullet and nodding, yes. You make your way around the couch and sit down, looking to him.

Slowly, he does the same, in absolute silence. He sits stiff. His shoulders are hunched up and his body is tightly pressed into the smallest space possible. The way his posture curls in on him makes him look even tinier.

You’ve never seen him anywhere close to upset before, not like this. Most of the time you see him he’s an angry upset, but this…it’s a sad upset. Almost scared.

You fold your legs onto the couch, pulling a blanket off from the ledge behind you. You drape it over Damians shoulders, enveloping him in warmth to contrast the icy bite of the night. He remains still.

You slowly move your hand up to his hair, treading carefully. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, though he makes no moves to stop you. You take that as the closest to a blessing you’re going to get from him, so you continue on.

You brush his hair back lightly, fingers threading through his hair with a loving gentleness.

“Damian,” You whisper.

He doesn’t look at you. Even in the dark, you can see his breathing labored and his eyes starting to well over.

You turn to face him and shift a little closer, taking his hand in yours. His chin lowers and his stare hardens, trying desperately not to cry.

You bring your free hand to the far side of his head, gently nudging him your way. He folds immediately, turning to you and throwing himself into your chest, tears flowing violently.

He struggles to breathe right, choking on his sobs as he hugs you tight. You hold his head against you, stroking his hair as he weeps.

You hold him like that for almost half an hour, allowing him as much time to cry as he needs.

He ends up curled up on your lap at an awkward angle, head resting on your thigh. The shaking of his body slows over time, his eyes fluttering shut from the ache of the tears. Not long after, his breathing levels out and his body completely relaxes into sleep.

You continue petting his head, mind wandering around to what could’ve happened. Jason had told you once that the only thing Damian seems to hold in high regard is Bruce, and his mood can easily sway Damian’s.

It’s almost three am when Jason slides in through the window, landing gracefully into a kneel. He tugs off his helmet before looking up and noticing you on the couch.

A split second of a smile before he glances down and sees Damian asleep on your lap, his arms still wrapped around your waist. His mouth drops and his brows furrows as he stands, examining his brother.

“What the hell?” He says quietly, looking back up to you.

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. Did something happen on patrol?”

Jason’s eyes drift down to Damian again. “I mean Bruce kind of yelled at him, so.”

“That’ll do it.”

He nods, coming to sit on the opposite side of the couch, careful not to wake him. He observes his brother's vice grip around your middle and your much more gentle hold around his.

“He let you hug him?”

“He hugged me.”

“He what?”

#jason todd thoughts™#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd/you #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd loves his gf

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fairy-angel222 · 9 months ago

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Toji stretches you out to the max when he fucks you. Your pussy gripping snugly onto his thick cock as you struggle to take him all. Letting out little whiny cries when he pushes deeper into you. His hand rubbing soothingly over the bulge in your stomach with a teasing smirk. “Would you look at that baby, ‘m so deep in there.. you feel that?” He groans, thrusing up harshly just to watch his tip visibly push at your skin.

He’s thrusting into you so good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as he fucks you deep, balls slapping noisily onto your ass as your pussy weeps messily onto his cock. “Pussy’s still struggling to take me huh,” He breathes, thumb reaching down to rub small circles on your clit. Watching as your back arches off of the bed with a loud moan. Your wet lashes blinking up at him as your lips part in a string of adorable noises.

You can’t think, eyes rolling back as you babble his name dumbly. His large hand wrapping around your neck to capture your lips on his. Sloppily locking your tongue with his till you’re drooling onto your chest, allowing him to swallow all your muffled sobs of pleasure. He’s hitting that spot so perfectly, and you find yourself shaking beneath him when his free hand reaches down to press onto your stomach.

The man softly kisses away your tears with a hum when you beg him to cum. Your vision blurring with a small scream when he gives you the okay. Clenching down tightly before lewdly squirting onto him. “Fuckk sweetheart, pussy’s so wet she’s practically talking t’ me right now. Wants me to pump her full of my cum doesn’t she?” He grunts, cock twitching when you nod with a moan. “Uh huh— please do.”

His movements slow down, panting heavily as he comes to a stop inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could till you were skin to skin, his tip taking its rightful place at your cervix’s entrance.

You feel yourself getting fuller when he releases into you. Ropes after ropes of the thick substance painting your walls thoroughly in white.

You whimper when it refuses to end, his cum continuously spurting out of him with bo signs of stopping. After all, you should have known by now that his balls hold twice the amount of cum that they should.

Your legs threaten to close around him when you start getting filled to the brim, his cum somehow seeping past his cock to run down your ass and onto the sheets below. “T-toji, there’s so muchh. ‘M stuffed.” You whine with a sniffle, your boyfriend only shoving your legs back open with a faux pout.

“I know sweet girl but i’ve gotta empty it all inside that pretty lil’ cunt of yours kay? Just lay there n’ take it like a good girl.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro

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nashdoesstuff · 3 months ago

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okay let’s start one of these. things

10 notes, i’ll work on trying out some different jewelry crafts

wow that was FAST— will post updates!

25 notes, i’ll paint a waterbottle i don’t use

hehe, i’ve got ideas!

50 notes, i’ll finish reference sheets for my characters

oh stars-

100 notes, i’ll infodump about my ocs

YIPPEEE!

200 notes, i’ll give y’all kandi tutorials

GASPPPPP OKAY!!!

250 notes, i’ll try a better self-care routine

not really going to comment on this one cackles

500 notes, i’ll try to finish my boots for my shattered cosplay

ohhh shit i have no excuse now do i /silly

750 notes, i’ll ask my school to play hot to go on the bell speakers

holy SHIT?!?!? okay then WEEPING WAILING

1000 notes, i’ll actually put effort into my ap classes

DUDE. NOOO /silly

1250 notes, i’ll redo my intro post from 2023

YOU GUYS GOTTA GIVE ME A BREAK WEEPING /silly/silly

1500 notes, i’ll finish redoing my artfight profile + ocs

oh this should be fun! :)

1750 notes, i’ll post actual cosplay content here

2000 notes, i’ll try making sans au plushies

2500 notes, i’ll ask my mum if i can sell stuff online

3000 notes, i’ll Actually try to host the dream tournament

will add onto this later, for now explode my inbox [please. if this bombs i’ll cry /hj]

#nash talks #notes game #nashdoesstuff #nash’s shenanigans

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ichatake · 7 months ago

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Uchihas reacting to “I hate you”s

Request are open! Request rules here!

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha

Warning: slight angst, nothing else.

Obito Uchiha (Villain)

✧ “I hate you,” he stood there, his expression unwavering as your voice seethed with anger. Your voice could cut through thick glass as you shouted at him, but he felt nothing whatsoever. Even as your eyes bore into him, filled with a hatred so intense it could burn a hole through his soul, it wasn’t directed towards him. No, not ever. Yet despite the venom in your words, he didn’t flinch. Instead he listened intently, his expression indifferent. “That’s okay,” he responded, his voice devoid of any apparent emotion. In any other scenario, he would’ve crumpled under the weight of your vitriol, weeping and pleading for an explanation as to why you might hate him. But not now, because he already knew why.

✧ He knew how you mourned him for years, believing him dead and gone, only to find out the hard way the reality. He knew you visited his grave, and wished that you were in his position. He knew that your trust—your perspective of reality had been shattered the very moment his mask fell from his face. With a heavy heart, he continued “I would too,” his gaze never left yours, watching as tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. It had been years since he’d seen you this close, yet you looked young and pretty. The prettiest he’s ever seen you, even with tears glistening on your pretty face.

✧ “I hate you so much,” your voice cracked with pain and resentment as you spoke to him. Your Obito. The revelation that he was still alive, but causing so much pain and suffering shattered your world, leaving you emotionally fractured. “Why? Why do all of this? Why hurt so many?” You ask, searching his face for remorse but finding none, “Because this world is broken,” he answers steadily, his voice awfully gentle to you. “You have nothing in this reality,” his arms open, showing you the distress and chaos that is currently occurring around you. He wanted you to see how your comrades laid lifeless—to make you understand that you lost your friends, your family, your ‘happy ending’. “ Let this happen, and you will be forever happy,” he pauses briefly, searching for the right words to say. He chose his words carefully, locking eyes with you, “With me. With a better version of me. One that will keep you happy for the rest of your life,” Despite your heart-wrenching cries, he did nothing to stop this war. As you wept before him, he knew your pain would be temporary. He knew that once his plan took action—the infinite Tsukuyomi—you would find happiness. Even if you hate him now, he reassured himself, you wouldn’t think the same after his plan was completed.

Obito Uchiha (Shinobi)

✧ Obito, a strong and beloved jonin from the Leaf village, stood there, his chest tightening at the words that just came out of your mouth. His expression shifted as his mind struggled to comprehend what you had said. Suddenly, without a second thought, his words slipped through his lips as he tried to make sense of what you told him, “What… did you say?” he asked carefully, his eyes frantically darting over your face as if searching for an answer. You met his gaze, repeating your words with unwavering conviction, “I said, I hate you,”

✧ As you repeat yourself, Obito’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his throat constricting as it became harder to breathe. He could handle any other response, any other thing you could have said, but hearing your harsh words was almost too much for him. “Why? What did I do? I don’t understand,” he manages to ask in desperation, trying his best to move closer to you. His heart clenched and turned inside his chest, and he boiled with fear. He loves you! He loves you to the moon and back! Why would you say that you hate him when he eats, sleeps, and breathes for you? You were his everything, so how could you hate him when he loved you so dearly?

✧ “Because you never notice how much I try for you. You’re always looking for Rin’s approval, and what about me? I’m left in the dark with nothing. I’m done with you. I’m done with trying to make you realize I’ve been in love with you for years,” you pour your heart out to him, desperate and hurt, and that’s when he realizes what this was about. Though his heart slightly fluttered at your revelation, he still felt awful for the way you were feeling all this time. The tingling sensation in the back of his mind kept bothering him as he examined every inch of your expression. “That’s… why?” He asks with a drop of his shoulder, sighing in pure relief at your confession, which only fueled the burning anger inside you. “I thought it was for something else I might’ve done… (Y/N), I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I’m in love with you,” his confession caught you in surprise, his voice revealing his true feelings with no hesitation. What once was nervousness and anxiety had now been replaced with determination as he yearned to seek for a solution. It was true, he was deeply in love with you, but people still thought he had something for Rin when he didn’t. However, he did hide the fact that he liked you out of fear of another rejection. With Rin, he handled it well, but with you? He wouldn’t be able to take it. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel horrible. I’m sorry I never noticed, and I’m sorry I hid it from you for so long. I love you, over anything there is in this world. The only thing I want is you, always and forever you,”

Madara Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” your words felt like a slap to the face, making Madara turn around to face you swiftly. Although his face was deemed expressionless, his body tensed and tightened the more he processed your words. He had obviously been taken aback by your audacity to say such things, but he tried his best to hide his discomfort. With arms crossed over his chest, he scoffed and parted his lips, ready to give you a piece of his mind. “Get over it, woman,” he snarls at you with authority, and slight annoyance. You, his wife, should never say that to him. He’s given you everything; a home, a family, and more importantly, love. “You are acting like a child over something that should have never pestered you in the first place,” although your words had not hit him hard when you first spat them, they started to annoy him the more they set in, “If you hate me, why even decide to say yes when I proposed? If you are going to bother me with such nonsense, I will not bother with you,”

✧ His words were meant to hurt you as much as you hurt him, and when he notices the pain in your eyes, he’s satisfied… until he’s not. Until that annoying tingling feeling lingers under his skin as he watches your eyes brim with tears. The tingling feeling that pulled on the tendons of his heart any time you cried was crawling under every inch of his body. “Oh please, do not start with the tears,” he groaned in annoyance, but the salty tears were already streaming down your puffy cheeks. Despite this, he didn’t move an inch to comfort you, but watched you as you cried for a couple of minutes until he released an exasperated sigh. “Why? Why do you care so much for those people when all they have done is hurt you?” He asks with irritation, referring to your clan members who’ve hurt you in the past. He has said something out of line, and you argued with him about it, which ended you two up here.

✧ “Because we should be better people than them. Violence should never be the answer,” you sniffle with clenched fist, “But that is something you seem to never stop thinking about,” you admit, trying to hold in your tears. You didn’t want to keep crying like this in front of him. You wanted to be strong, “And if you think I am such a burden, then why keep this ring on my finger—,” you were surprised when his fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from taking off the ring he had gifted you the night he proposed, “Because I know who I married. The same nagging woman I am with now, is the same nagging woman I fell in love with. If I had any regrets of marrying you, you would be back in your clan,” he scoffs and pulls your head to his chest with an annoyed expression “I love you, you stupid woman,” to any other person, your relationship might’ve seemed strange, but to you, this moment showed you just how much he truly loved you. Even if he has weird ways of showing it.

Shisui Uchiha

✧ Wait, he didn’t quite hear you well. Wait, what did you say? He turned towards you with a raised brow, his mouth slightly parted as he tried to figure out if you had said what he thought you said. Noticing his lost expression, you had no choice but to repeat yourself, much to your annoyance “I hate you,” this time, he did hear you. Loud and clear. To him, it felt like he took hours to respond to you, but in reality, his answer left his mouth almost immediately, “No you don’t,” It wasn’t meant to be cocky, it just sounded like it was. At least, to you it sounded cocky, and it made you even angrier with him. It annoyed you that he never took you seriously, “Oh, so now you think you know how I feel, do you?” you spat at him, hands clenching into tight fists as your eyes locked intensely, “You never care about anything! You come home and sleep and don’t even have time for me. I know you have a hard job, and I don’t expect you to be there at my beck and call, but at least asking me how I am would be enough,” you stressed, waving your arms frantically around you in desperation. You had been like this all week, stressed and unable to talk to anyone, because the only person you could ever rant and banter about things that bothered you in life was barely there for you, and when he was, it was like he wasn’t! He would barely listen to you anymore, and would expect you to listen to him. And you did, you always did. But you wanted something in return, and that was a sliver of his attention.

✧ “You're telling me you hate me over something so little?” he asks with furrowed brows, making you even more annoyed, “Over something so little?” You repeated through gritted teeth. His face, for once, contorted into one of annoyance, something you had never seen on him before, “Yes! Little! Because you know how my line of work is! You know that I barely have time to sleep, let alone waste my time with useless banter!” You were left speechless, standing in front of him with hurt eyes. “Yeah, useless. You’re right. Because my feelings don’t matter,” you scoff, “That’s not what I—” you interrupt him by turning away, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as realization finally hits him. You weren’t trying to waste his time, you just wanted to spend time with him. He had been so lost in his work, so busy caring for himself that he completely neglected you.

✧ “Oh darling,” he takes your hand again, a frown painting his face, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I’m just stressed out. Everything's happening so fast, and the clan isn’t helping at all.” he sighs and pulls you in towards him, engulfing you in his tight embrace, yet you didn’t say anything, “I know I’ve been neglecting you, and you deserve better. Please, let me make it up to you,” he whispers into you hair as he lowers down to kiss your head, “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t have you by my side,”

Itachi Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” you mumble under your breath as you look at your lover. No, he wasn’t your lover anymore. He had left the village years ago, leaving you behind with a broken heart and a broken image of him. He was a monster who murdered his entire clan, and even though he had left years ago, he still looked the same as when he was still in the village, with only one difference. Those eyes. Those red eyes that stared deep into your soul. They terrified you. The eyes that you once loved and cared about so much looked down at you with no emotion. They were empty. They were dark. They were hurt. “I hate you, for everything that you did,” you pushed him, backing away from him with angry eyes. His cloak told you everything you needed to know. He was part of the Akatsuki, he was the enemy now. He was a traitor, and although your words were meant to hurt him, he closed his eyes and nodded, understanding your hatred towards him. “I understand,” he says in such a soft voice. His voice that you missed so much.

✧ You didn’t understand why he came to visit you. Why come in the middle of the night to see you? Why? Why waste his breath coming back to see you when he knew you wanted nothing to do with him? Because this would be his final goodbye. There were only a handful of people Itachi cared for—Two, to be exact. His brother, and the love of his life. He knew that soon he’d perish, and this was the final time he would ever see you again. Not that it mattered. He tried not to think about it, thinking it would make things worse. It would be better if he never came to see you, but his heart got the best of him, and so he sat there at your window, looking at you for one final time.

✧ “You don’t,” you clench your fist, hurt by his mere presence, “I don’t want anything to do with you, and I will report you to the higher ups. Unless you came here to kill me, which I don’t doubt,” you were defenseless, but you wouldn’t go out without a fight. Never. You would fight until the very end, but soon you realized he wasn’t there to kill you. “I have no need for that,” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I came by my own selfishness. I don’t expect you to understand, and I accept your hatred, which I deserve,” he looks at you, red eyes burning into yours, “I simply wanted to see you for a final time,” he smiles and reaches out for you, pushing your hair out of your face, “My love,” and with that, your vision goes black as your consciousness slips away from you. You would wake up the next day tucked into your bed with a necklace tucked tightly in your hand.

Sasuke Uchiha

✧ Words never hurt this Uchiha, he was used to every awful thing anyone could throw at him. He cared too little about anything and everything, and that's what you hated the most about him. He barely cared about anything you did or said, at all times. He didn’t care how you looked because he never complimented you, he didn’t care how you acted because he barely spoke to you. You felt like you were in a relationship with a ghost, in fact, the comparison was not even close, because dating a ghost would be ten times better than this. And with every passing day of being emotionally neglected by your partner, today was no different. He was back in the village, and instead of coming to you first—to his home—he decided it was better to meet with Naruto and Sakura over seeing his wife who waited patiently everyday for him. You questioned if the ring on your finger meant anything to him at all at that moment. Despite this,

✧ When he got home, you were so happy, yet he showed no sign of interest in anything you did for him. You cooked and he ate, saying nothing about the taste of your new recipe. In fact, he seemed like he didn’t notice that you had learnt to cook a new dish just for him. Even so, you shrugged his annoying attitude off and asked about his day instead. Your question seemed to annoy the tired man as he became uninterested in mid conversation. When you asked him what was wrong, he shrugged you off. You kept questioning him until he snapped at you, telling you how you were annoying him with all your worries. This had been the final straw. You always gave everything in the relationship. You understood he wasn’t the best at showing his emotions, but it didn’t mean he could act like he didn’t care about you. Like you were nothing. The argument got heated and it ended up with you opening your mouth without thinking. “I hate you!” After your words fell out of your mouth, the room fell silent. He who had been looking away from you, had now turned his full attention towards you, “You don’t mean that, stop being dramatic,” the sight of him rolling his eyes hurt you more than it ever did. “You don’t care about anything, Sasuke. I do everything to try and please you. I could even say I live for you, but it’s never enough! You don’t take a sliver of your time to appreciate me. You think I have to be there for you whenever you need me, but can just leave whenever you want!” you yell, hitting the wall in frustration.

✧ “You don’t care about me! You don't love me anymore!” you were in a current state of pure anger, letting out everything you ever wanted to say to him. This makes him stand up and walk towards you, taking your wrist in his hand. You look up at him, tears of frustration prickling in the corner of your eyes. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. You mean a lot more to me than you think. I… I’m sorry if I don’t show it,” he sighs, “I love your cooking, I love your stories—I love hearing about everything that happened throughout your day. You’re the only thing I can think about when I’m away,” he lets go of your wrist and places a hand on your cheek, “Don’t hate me, because you’re the only important thing in my life. You’re my wife, and I…” he stops himself, trying to build the courage to complete his sentence. A small blush decorates his cheeks before he sighs, “I care for you a lot,” your husband wasn’t perfect, but you still loved him a lot, and you knew he loved you too.

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